


In Between and Lost

by ReticentGrace



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Age Play, Age Regression/De-Aging, Alternate History, Anxiety, Anxiety Attacks, Backstory, Bad Parenting, Child Abuse, Child Neglect, Childhood Memories, Loneliness, M/M, Neglect, Other, Past Child Abuse, Pavel really needs a Daddy, Possible sequel, Shame, Tissue Warning, Triggers, fears, seriously, space is too big for poor Pavel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-10
Updated: 2013-08-10
Packaged: 2017-12-22 23:38:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,061
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/919380
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ReticentGrace/pseuds/ReticentGrace
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>No one ever really knew just how much Pavel had locked away inside- fears, doubts, anxiety, memories...but he knew. He knew, even if only one very lonely, very 'little' part of him could express it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In Between and Lost

**Author's Note:**

> Another short drabble while I work up the bravery to post bigger things. This...is kind of terrifying for me *faints*. Second story ever posted somewhere outside of my lonely Tumblr- whoooo. 
> 
> This is from yet another potential roleplay universe- I gave Pavel a bit of history for this so I could make him my own, so I hope I didn't step on some kinda backstory that I couldn't find//didn't know about. D: Poor wee Pasha...

There were days and nights where everything was fine. ‘Day’ and ‘Night’ were almost irrelevant, in a sea of endless Stars, but measurements comforted the human mind- measurements, numbers…calculations, equations, algorithms…they were a balm on the wounds of weary, frightened souls; of beings who had no idea how to take in all the grandness around them. They comprised and compressed them into little boxes, instead…compartmentalized grandeur, things that made sense….but sometimes, the boxes fell over. Sometimes, they spilled, and all the Grandeur and Wonder- all the Fear and unfathomable Chaos…it was free and it let itself unravel, spanning farther than the human eye could see.

And then, everything was not fine. Everything was too much. Not just the negative things, or the positive things; not just the dark or the light…it was just everything at once, with no rhyme or reason…with no way to section it off and comprehend it, bit by bit…it was just everywhere, and loud, and confusing…and frightening, and when it happened, there was nothing left to do but fear. There was nothing left to do but hide.

When it happened, Ensign Pavel Chekov Wasn’t Ensign Pavel Chekov, anymore. He tried to be- he did his level best to hold himself together, but even that wasn’t enough, sometimes…and when it wasn’t enough, he could barely wait to lock himself in his quarters, alone and safe, and be anyone except Ensign Chekov…because just the -world- sometimes scared Ensign Chekov away, so the whole universe scared him even further. So far away that he didn’t even think he could BE Ensign Chekov, anymore.

All he could be was _Pasha_ , and Pasha was scared of being alone, but he was more scared of everyone else. He was too young to deal with their judgment- to be hurt by the misunderstanding in everyone's eyes and the accusations on their lips. Pasha was a frightened little boy, and he could barely stand to look out the window at the stars all around them where there was no floor or ceiling at all, because that sort of endlessness felt beyond him in so many ways. Pasha didn’t understand it, because he didn’t want to understand it…he’d been being forced to understand the heavens and the earth and the stars for as long as he could remember…

…for so long that things he couldn’t understand scared him. Darkness, endlessness, the bleak blackness of space and the thought of all the unknowns- unknown variables, unknown feelings, unknown monsters…it all scared him, and all he could do was huddle alone and wait for it to pass, because there wasn’t anyone to help him or hold him, and tell him that it wasn’t as scary as he thought it was…that it wasn’t so crushing that he could barely breathe enough to even cry.

There had never really been anyone, though. Even when Pasha had really been Pasha; when he’d been little and not just felt little, there hadn’t been anyone to do any of those things. Comfort and Consolation and simple things like hugs and band-aids, fairy-tales and nightlights…they’d been swept under the rug while words like ‘gifted’, ‘advanced’, and ‘whiz kid’ lay on top, suffocating everything under a carpet of ‘mature’ that…had never really existed. Intelligence wasn’t maturity- it wasn't an invitation to take away a child’s security blanket early, or never even give them one. It had never been the excuse to not bother with embraces and closet-monster checks that everyone had taken it for.

An only child with overly-proud, pushy parents and a father who was rarely there to push at all; a child who was doing algebra in his sleep by the time other children were learning to read…but still, a child, who had been expected to find some kind of equation that made him realize monsters weren’t real. Who was supposed to hold books instead of teddy-bears to comfort himself in the dark. Who was never sat down and shown the company he’d so desperately wanted…

…he’d grown up quickly, but at the same time part of him had been trapped, too scared to move on without a hand to hold.

Poor little Pasha. Pasha who was afraid of the dark and wanted a Teddy Bear and had never figured out the magical scientific equation that made monsters go away…Pasha who had never learned what number he was supposed to come up with to make him stop wanting hugs. Whose voice recorder had never really read a proper rendition of Peter and The Wolf or Hansel and Gretel.

Poor little Pasha, who he became every time the boxes spilled. He was left bereft, realizing just how big and scary the world was, when math and science didn’t solve everything. And it wasn’t quite good enough, when he’d locked his door and pulled the bear he’d bought himself out from under his bed…when he huddled in the corner of his dorm on top of soft pillows and closed his eyes, and tried to work up the bravery to ask for a nightlight from supply, even if he knew they’d laugh at him…when he looked at picture books alone, like he always had.

But at least he could be Pasha, now. At least he could stop being Pavel. Even if Pasha and Pavel were alone, Pavel took to it worse. Pasha still hoped that someone would read to him, someday, and get him new toys…and hug him close when it got too dark, or he scraped his knee or had a fever. Pavel…his heart was already broken, and he’d built a wall of numbers and symbols so high that he wasn’t sure anyone would ever climb it to look down and see him crying.

Pasha could keep hiding, and keep the hope they both had safe- Pavel could protect Pasha, with bright smiles and zealous confidence, and quick-thinking words that sounded intelligent and sure. Neither were sure there was any other way…even if there should have been. Even if there needed to be.

Poor Little Pasha, and Poor Little Pavel. It was too much for both of them, with too little help, but too much and too little...it was all they'd ever had.

Too Much, Too Little…In Between and Lost.


End file.
